Lady Luna
by kwylink
Summary: Merlin and Arthur face a new threat. A so-far incurable disease spreads and threatens Uther's control. While the knights of Camelot manage to destroy the known source of disease, another victim is made- of a man within Camelot. -rated T to be safe-
1. Chapter 1

"-born of magic," Gaius finished. "Lycanthropy is also highly contagious. The kingdom is in peril if that is indeed what you saw."

"When you say highly contagious-" Merlin started.

"One bite, and the disease is spread. I must tell the king. These creatures are most active at full moon, but they're incredibly strong and fast. Lycanthropy is exponential. Should an epidemic break out, entire villages could turn."

"If it's born of magic-"

"I hope you're not suggesting using magic under King Uther's nose."

"But if I can fix it; if I can protect Camelot-"

"You can't even keep your room clean, Merlin. The Knights of Camelot protect. You serve as Arthur's manservant and my runner."

"But-"

"I'm off for a word with the king. I advise that you see to Arthur."

* * *

"Late again, Merlin," Arthur noted, not looking up as Merlin came into the room without knocking.

"Yeah." Merlin smiled sheepishly.

"Well, hurry up with it. We were supposed to be practicing eight minutes ago, and you haven't even buckled me up."

"Well," Merlin said, mimicking Arthur's tone. "I had to make sure some royal boots would be shiny enough for some royal prat."

Arthur looked up then, a smirk on his lips. But before he could answer, a knock sounded on the door. Arthur and Merlin turned to look at the door, but neither of them opened it.

"Sire, your father requests your presence."

"Tell him I'll be down in a minute," Arthur retorted, looking back to Merlin, clearly about to say something-

"He said it's urgent."

"Father believes nearly everything is urgent," Arthur snorted as footsteps from the runner faded away.

"This might be important, though."

"You sound as if you already know why I'm being summoned."

"Probably the werewolf," Merlin said, picking up a dirty shirt from Arthur's chair and folding it over his arm.

"Werewolf," Arthur repeated. "That's just a story, created to make restless children stay in bed."

"Wolf, then," Merlin said, shaking his head. "So werewolves are in that mythical category with the questing beast?"

"Point," Arthur conceded, moving to leave. "Now don't go thinking you've avoided the sparring session."

"You could just train with your knights," Merlin pointed out, picking up a lone sock from under the chair.

"Yes, but the knights know their places," Arthur replied, not missing a beat. "I've got to keep beating it into you."


	2. Cavorting with Death

Uther didn't hate Arthur's manservant: he just wanted the boy dead. Arthur risked too much already- even disobeying Uther in order to save him from poison. They were far too close, and the manservant seemed to be a magnet for trouble.

Uther sent Arthur's manservant with the Knights of Camelot to hunt down the wolf Gaius was so concerned about. With any luck, the boy would be killed.

* * *

Merlin's senses were on edge; he could practically taste the magic in the air.

His foot hooked on a tree root and he nearly fell over. Before he even got his arms out to catch his weight, Arthur grabbed the back of his shirt and jerked him upright.

"I think we should keep with the original plan." Arthur was smirking now. "You know, the one where we sneak up?"

"I know," Merlin grumbled irritably, trying to find out where the magic was coming from.

"Don't lead," Arthur added seriously, shouldering in front of Merlin so that Merlin was in the center of the knights, all of who looked at him as though they sincerely questioned why Merlin was there.

Merlin's question was answered as a shadow leapt from the trees, taking out seven knights. There was a bloody print identical to the one he had seen two days ago, the one he had told Gaius about.

"That's it," Merlin whispered, air catching in his windpipe, and Arthur jumped in front of him, sword at ready.

"Run, Merlin!"

_They're incredibly strong and fast._

"No!"

"MERLIN!" Arthur said, partially a groan, partially a growl, and completely annoyed. The beast lunged and Arthur took a swipe.

The next second the crown prince was on the ground, and the monstrous wolf was leaning, bloody fangs glittering in the moonlight, over Arthur.

Merlin heard Arthur's leg snap and screamed. The werewolf looked up and then _stepped_ on Arthur, causing more bones to crunch. And then Sir Gaimar hurled his sword at the creature, and it collapsed, shrinking into the form of a thin, middle-aged, stone-dead man.


	3. Royal Bloodhound

Arthur was healing very well, the werewolf turned out to be an infamous thief, and it seemed that no one wanted revenge for the man's death. Camelot was at peace.

Or at least as much peace as it could be.

"You should wait till you've completely healed," Merlin protested. "A week of sitting won't destroy you."

"Perhaps I have not made myself clear," Arthur said, cold and smoldering at once. "I _order_ you to joust with me."

"This is me refusing,' Merlin replied, matching the death glare that Arthur was giving him. "It's only been two days. You shouldn't push yourself."

"And you should learn to hold your tongue," Arthur snarled, vaulting out of his bed and whirling out of his chambers. Merlin tried to remember: he was fairly certain that Gaius said Arthur had broken his leg. Merlin shook his head, deciding that it was most important to find Arthur and stop him from hurting himself.

As soon as he stepped onto the practice fields, he found something else a bit more pressing.

Arthur was jousting with a knight that Merlin didn't recognize, his every movement full of raw, bestial fury. There was none of Arthur's normal flaunting of skill. His head bandage slipped a bit, and as Merlin watched, Arthur clawed it off.

His forehead was clean, unmarked by the gaping wounds from the wolf attack.

Merlin watched, aghast, as Arthur swung his sword like a club, his arm moving like a pendulum about to explode. The knight's sword went flying, and still Arthur advanced.

"Sire?" the knight squeaked.

Merlin grabbed the sword, still vibrating from its land in the ground before him, easily within his reach.

"Arthur Pendragon," he said, mustering all of the authority he could. "I challenge you to a duel-"

"A duel," Arthur repeated, swinging around, his face full of internal torture and amused passion. "Do you feel like getting beaten today, Merlin?"

Merlin felt warm relief at the jibe. It sounded more like the Arthur he knew. The knight shot Merlin an anxious look as before sneaking towards the stables.

"But you're not wearing any armor," Arthur stated, his voice low and musing. "It'd be too easy- hurry and put on some armor-"

"Arthur, are you feeling unwell?" Merlin asked, concerned.

"GO!" Arthur bellowed, and the horses in the stable whinnied in fear.

Merlin ran.

* * *

Arthur was moving much faster than Merlin was when Merlin was wearing armor. Each contact Arthur's sword made with Merlin's chest plate forced all of the air out of Merlin's lungs, leaving him unable to breathe for short, antagonizing stretches.

Merlin fell with a crashing blow to the legs, feeling pain explode, only to be followed by warm, wet blood dripping into his boots.

Merlin crawled back from Arthur, who had a demonic look in his eyes.

"You can run," Arthur laughed, and Merlin felt sincere fear drop into his stomach. "But you can't hide."

Merlin hissed in pain as he tried to catch his breath, and Arthur was striking him everywhere at once with the sword. Merlin's armor was bending, warping with each ringing strike.

"Arthur." Merlin couldn't make it not sound like a whine. "It hurts." And he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

Merlin woke when Gwen put a wet cloth on his forehead.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. "I'd hug you if you weren't so broken."

"I'm not broken," Merlin said indignantly. "Where's Arthur?"

"He's locked himself in his room. He said to fetch him when you woke, but…Merlin, did Arthur do this to you?" He thought about it. "Merlin?"

"No," Merlin decided. "I don't think he did." He tried to stand up, but failed miserably. "How long have I been out?"

"Four days. You're to stay in bed. Your legs aren't healed-"

"I must see Arthur-"

"Then I'll get him," Gwen interrupted, squeezing Merlin's hand. "Stay. I'll get him."

Merlin meant to stay awake for Arthur but once Gwen left, darkness claimed him.


	4. Famous Last Words

I've gone and forgotten to write the disclaimer. sorry about that.

disclaimer: this is a non-profit piece of literature written from an idea that hit me on the head in the middle of a rather depressing lecture about native american-US federal government relations in the 1800s. I own nothing Merlin.

-kwyl

* * *

**********************story-time****************************

* * *

"You said he was awake." Merlin's eyes snapped open at the growl in Arthur's voice.

"He was! But if Merlin's sleeping, let him. He needs his rest." Gwen squared her shoulders and glared at Arthur. "I'm not afraid of you, Arthur Pendragon!"

"I can smell it on you," Arthur retorted, voice dipping dangerously low.

"Oh...Merlin's awake," Gwen mumbled, looking down to the floor, and Arthur whirled to sit at Merlin's bedside.

"Merlin."

"I'm sorry: I can't get up," Merlin said, managing to hide most of his sarcasm. "But I'll still manage to get everything done-"

"You're not doing anything," Arthur growled. He cleared his throat. "Gwen, give us a moment." Gwen threw Merlin an uncertain look, and he nodded. She left, her fading footsteps leading into ringing silence.

"You look well," Merlin said. "I mean, physically. You look horribly depressed, but you're in one piece."

"I came to apologize," Arthur said, stiff and formal, his gaze fixated above Merlin's head. Merlin turned to look, but there was nothing behind him but the wall. "I'm sorry."

"So…what happened?" Merlin tried to pull himself into a sitting up position.

"I was feeling a bit stressed and wanted to see someone else suffer." He paused. "You saved Sir Erec's life."

"Well, I'm not dead," Merlin answered, offering a huge smile. "Put it behind us?" Arthur smiled back, allowing relief to show through.

"You really shouldn't be such an idiot, you know. Fighting me when I was in a temper..."

"Temper or not, you're just a prat," Merlin replied. Arthur shook his head as he stood up.

"I should be leaving; you're needing sleep. I am sorry about all of this-"

"Sorry?" Merlin looked at Arthur with deserved suspicion. Two apologies was a bit of an overkill- especially for Arthur.

"Don't forget who I was," Arthur continued. "Good-bye." Something uneasy moved in Merlin's stomach as Arthur left, something that felt a bit like déjà vu.

It wasn't until he woke in the middle of the night that he figured out where he had seen Arthur's demeanor. It had happened just weeks ago…

…when Merlin'd been planning on sacrificing his life to save his mother…


	5. Bound by Silver

This is the chapter that popped into my head, and I started developing the story around it.

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Merlin.

Credit for the phrase "Famous Last Words" goes to the band My Chemical Romance. I didn't have the song stuck in my head as I wrote the chapter, and I don't know half the lyrics, but I used the phrase- so there it is. It belongs to MCR.

* * *

It didn't matter if he was caught- not while Arthur's life was in danger. Merlin summoned the magic book Gaius had given him and flipped through it frantically, stopping at the healing page. He muttered the words a few times, familiarizing the way the syllables fit on his tongue, and then focused on his leg.

"_Atgyweiria rusak ruumis." _His legs warmed considerably for a few seconds, and then the heat faded. Merlin jumped to his feet and started running, a bit startled that it had worked.

He burst into Arthur's chambers, only to find the bed empty.

"Arthur!" Merlin called, rummaging in vain through the sheets.

"What are you doing in my room?" The voice sounded cold and overwhelmingly weak. Merlin spun to see Arthur standing next to the table.

"Are you unwell?" Merlin asked. Arthur's voice unnerved him.

"You need to leave, Merlin." Arthur's voice was growing exponentially in volume, his posture was becoming more natural, and his hands were behind him, gripping the table.

"Why?"

"You question your prince!" Arthur growled, his hands swinging forward into fists as he advanced a few paces towards Merlin.

"Well, yeah," Merlin replied, trying to make it sound as obvious as it was. "You've been acting strange recent-"

"Merlin, I need you to do something for me," Arthur said, with the tone he often adopted when he believed he had found a foolproof impromptu plan. His gaze flickered down Merlin's legs. "Did I bite you?" he demanded, moving closer.

"Bite me?" Merlin repeated, a bit confused. "Ahhhm…no."

"Your…the thing you need to do," Arthur said, his eyes flashing away from Merlin's legs and to the table. Merlin's gaze automatically followed. There was a rusty old sword laying on the floor next to the table.

"Your job," Arthur continued loudly, pulling Merlin's attention back to himself, "is to steal Morgana's silver pendant and hang it around my neck."

"What? What? Wait…….what?"

"Get Morgana's silver pendant and put it on me," Arthur repeated, his voice stiff and slow.

"But…I don't…" Merlin cast around for a way to tell Arthur that he was not stealing Morgana's pendant. He settled for a distraction. "Why do you have this old sword? It's worse than the one that I practice with."

"I brought it. The pendant, Merlin."

"It's just…if it belongs to Morgana-"

"You are my manservant, not my adviser. Get the damn pendant."

"You didn't summon me to get the pendant," Merlin pointed out. "I didn't come to fetch things for you-"

"Then why are you here?" Arthur roared, taking several more steps towards Merlin.

"Because I thought you were about to die!" Merlin shouted back, and they both froze.

"Explain," Arthur hissed, his voice strong and coiled, like a snake about to strike.

"It is impossible to recover from the bite of a questing beast-"

"I did."

"There's this old religion," Merlin explained, and he held up a hand as Arthur started to interrupt again. "A life for a life. I offered myself, but my mother suffered from it. She appeared, sick and dying, here, in Camelot. It was her life for your life."

"Mothers should be saved," Arthur said fiercely.

"So I was preparing to sacrifice myself for my mother, and I came to say goodbye to you. It was a lot like the conversation we had this afternoon."

"Merlin," Arthur said abruptly. "Get me the pendant. I'll explain everything in the morning."

"Sleepy, then?" Merlin asked. "I'll get you the pendant in the morning while Morgana's at breakfast." He went over and picked up the sword, losing his own balance at the sword's poor balance before setting it on the table.

"I NEED IT NOW!" Arthur bellowed.

"Why?" Merlin demanded.

"BECAUSE I'M…" Arthur turned from Merlin and went to the window, gripping hard onto the ledge. "I'm a werewolf, Merlin."

"A…a werewolf," Merlin repeated. "Like…awhoooo?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, curt and brusque.

"And werewolves like women's silver pendants?"

"No," Arthur said.

"Then…why do you want her pendant?"

"Because silver is the only way to kill a werewolf," Arthur said. He was still refusing to look at Merlin.

"…kill?" Merlin squeaked.

"They heal very quickly. I though rust might to the trick, but the books tell the truth. Only silver. Sir Gaimar's sword would've done the trick. He's got silver embellishments."

"Rust…you…silver...Arthur!"

"What?" Arthur growled.

"You do not try to kill yourself!"

"You don't understand," Arthur said, looking up at the sky. "I can't think properly, I've got all of these crazy thoughts running through my head-"

"-like what?" Merlin interrupted.

"Like how your small intestine would taste while it's still warm." Arthur leaned out the window. "You're scared, I can feel it. Go away. That adds to it."

"Look, I'm not dead," Merlin said. "Clearly you can control it."

"Clearly," Arthur repeated, pensive, and he briefly turned away from the window. His expression was hungry, and there was a bit of drool hanging out of the corner of his mouth. "There's this bloodlust too. Even with my own blood."

"Even with your own blood?" Merlin repeated, starting to feel a bit nauseous.

"You will find no sign of my blood in this room," Arthur promised grimly. "And by now the scars will have faded."

"Arthur, suicide is not acceptable!"

"And you'll tell me what is? It's not just about me, Merlin. It's about what I do. I nearly killed you; I still want to kill you; I want to go out and rip open every throat in…Merlin, leave. You're scared."

"Of course I'm scared!" Merlin retorted hotly. "Even if I was just an egotistical idiot—Why do I have to end up as the manservant serving the suicidal royal prat who's on the top of every assassination list in the kingdom? Uther'll have my head, and it'll all-"

"I wrote a letter, explaining it," Arthur said, brushing off Merlin's words. "I'm not a coward, Merlin. I'm not afraid of death. And…this healing ability…it's magic, Merlin. I am breaking the laws of Camelot by existing, and I will not bring such shame to my father."

"You'd kill yourself because you have magic in you," Merlin repeated.

"It's one of many reasons," Arthur replied. "I will not bring myself, a werewolf, as a curse upon my land and my people."

"If such is the case," Merlin said, spreading out his hands in an open gesture, even though Arthur was looking obstinately out the window. "If you hate magic, then you should kill me."

"That's what I was trying to avoid," Arthur snapped, pulling away from the window and facing Merlin. "That's just…wait. If I hate magic, I should kill you?"

"I'm a sorceror, a warlock, whatever you want to call me, I can do magic."

"This is not a time to be joking, Merlin," Arthur snarled, and the next thing Merlin knew, Arthur had him pinned against the wall. "You think you can talk me out of this, which is why I didn't ask for your help sooner. But don't lie while you do it: the last thing you need is a reason for me to kill—" He broke off and leaped to the other side of the room.

"Arthur," Merlin called, and Arthur looked up. Merlin conjured twin orbs in his hands.

"It's the same thing that was in the cave," Arthur muttered darkly. "You've been lying to me, HAVEN'T YOU, MERLIN!" Arthur jumped at Merlin again, but this time Merlin was ready. His eyes flashed gold and Arthur's movements slowed to a snail's pace.

"I can try to pull it out," Merlin whispered. "Your kingdom needs you more than your father needs his pride. Your father needs you more than he needs his pride. And you're not a coward if you're being logical. Everyone knows you're brave; you don't have to kill yourself to try and prove it." His eyes flashed gold again, and everything fell back to normal rhythm.

"You can pull it out?" Arthur demanded, shaking a bit.

"I'll try," Merlin said.

"Just how good a sorcerer are you?"

"I don't know," Merlin said, offering a smile. "The majority of the ones I meet are trying to kill you, and I don't hang around to chat much. I killed Nimeuh."

"The name seems familiar," Arthur mused, chewing on his lip. It began to bleed, and he chewed it with inappropriate enthusiasm.

"Arthur, stop," Merlin commanded.

"It's not that easy," Arthur snarled. He stopped chewing, but his tongue kept lapping out for the blood.

"Do you mind if I- er- usemagiconyou?" Merlin asked. "You know, so you don't, like, eat me or something?"

"Go ahead," Arthur said. "And Merlin?"

"What?"

"If it doesn't work out, promise you'll kill me."

"I won't," Merlin retorted firmly.

"I command you to-"

"Look, Arthur: you're my destiny. Destiny deaths to not make for a good future. This is where I belong, in Camelot, at your side."

"Idiot," Arthur snorted, nibbling on his lip again. The skin had completely healed, but Arthur bit hard enough that it started bleeding again. He sat down at a chair at the table, and Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

Merlin put his hands on either side of Arthur's head and felt completely ridiculous. He had no idea how to withdraw lycanthropy. Merlin closed his eyes and concentrated, concentrated on Arthur's thoughts—blood and hunger, the desire to kill…

It rose up to meet him, trying to tie Merlin to the need for bloodlust. Merlin yanked it with magic- silver magic that had splintering tendrils, wrapping around every part of Arthur's mind— He had it.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he pulled back from Arthur- both mind and body- but something was restraining him. Merlin looked down,

"Arthur," he said, trying to sound as nice as possible. "Can you let go of my sleeve?" Arthur's eyes flew open, and he spat out Merlin's shirt. "When is the last time you washed that thing?"

"I take it that you feel better, Sire?"

"Yeah," Arthur sighed, rumpling his hair and face-planting into the table. "Don't think I'm letting you get off easy for the entire magic bit, though." Merlin stiffened. "Now, what exactly is this?"

Next to the rusty old sword sat a silvery bottle. Merlin picked it up and, sensing the contents, nearly dropped it.

"This is it. The stuff that was in your head."

"I thought you destroyed it!"

"I don't know how!" Merlin replied, feeling a bit snappish. "Look, just leave it in here for a bit, and I'll do some research on it."

"You can borrow the books I had Gwen fetch me," Arthur said, nodding to the fireplace, which held wobbling stacks of books all the way across. "And Merlin…thanks."

Merlin grinned, and everything was right again.

* * *

**Author's Comments**: Just before Merlin came in, Arthur tried a suicide attempt. He was going through his healing process when Merlin came in. It took Arthur a while to realize that Merlin walking meant that Merlin's legs were healed, at which time he had a slight panic attack, thinking that Merlin's supernatural healing had been because of the werewolf fast-healing bit.


End file.
